


places that sit so still

by brahe



Category: DC - Fandom, DCU, Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Babies, Batdad, Bruce Wayne Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, bc i wanted bruce to have an emotional crisis abt his own kids, i wrote this 100 percent for me, im inventing a new fic genre, let the character hold a baby, lol who's canon, the character here is bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 14:36:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15709212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: He thinks of his own children, and he surprises himself with the sudden, overwhelming longing to have had them as infants, to have had the chance to hold them like this, comfortable and lulled by warmth and baby-soft skin. His chest tightens, his heart squeezed tight at what he didn't get, won't ever get. He thinks about all the firsts he missed, all the things he hadn’t really realized he never got.Or,Barry brings his cousin's baby to the Watchtower and Bruce has feelings.





	places that sit so still

**Author's Note:**

> back on my regular bullshit ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ
> 
> i have nothing to say abt this except that i wanted to murder myself w it and here we are. it's not the fic that i was supposed to be working on, but alas.
> 
> title from gavin's song by marc broussard

Bruce has been at the Watchtower computer for nearly two hours when Barry comes into the room, and that in itself isn't strange – it's the way he comes in, on the elevator, at regular-person speed, that makes Bruce turn around to look at him.

There's a very baby-shaped bundle of blankets in Barry's arms, and Bruce has two very distinct emotions at once.

The first is that the Watchtower is no place for an infant, and Barry should know that; the second is a nearly-overwhelming urge to correct the way Barry's carrying the bundle. _Dad mode,_ he hears Dick’s voice in his head, and it makes something ache in his chest.

Barry looks up then, before Bruce can say anything, and his eyes go wide and he rushes over the space remaining between them.

“Hey,” he starts, drawing out the _y_ , and Bruce raises an eyebrow. “I know you said no strangers and all that, but my cousin asked me last minute this morning if I could look after her, and _of course_ I said yes, because she's so cute and I love babies, _and_ it's only for the day, really, and she's like four months old, so it's not like she'll remember anything, plus she's super well behaved and never cries and – what are you doing please don't be mad.”

Bruce stands, and he wars with himself for the time it takes to reach Barry. “Hold her like this,” he says, shifting Barry's hands so the baby's head is supported better, and – and Bruce can see her now, confirms that she _is_ a baby, and certainly very young. Her cheeks are round, red things, and her eyes are big blue saucers that look up at him, blinking slow. She's already got a head of thick, black hair that curls around itself in loose waves, and Bruce instantly loves her.

Barry looks down at the baby, too. “Oh,” he says. “I didn't know you knew anything about…babies.”

Bruce doesn't answer. “What's her name?” he asks, letting her grab onto one of his fingers when she reaches for him.

“Uh, it's Lily,” Barry tells him, and Bruce can feels his eyes, watching him with the child, but he doesn't expect Barry to open his mouth again, offer, “Do you wanna hold her?”

Bruce snaps his eyes to Barry's. “I…” he starts, trailing off, listing all the reasons why he shouldn't in his head until he looks back down when Lily makes a happy, bubbling sound, and she gives him a wide, toothless smile. “Yes. I do.”

She's so light and so small, squirming at little as she changes hands until Bruce has her entirely, and she settles against his chest, cheek pressed into the soft material of his undershirt. She fits easily into one of his arms, and he uses the other to run a gentle hand over her head.

“Yeah, okay,” Barry's saying, like this is a shock to see, and a part of Bruce laughs at the picture he must present – barefoot, in black sweats and one of the suit’s compression shirts, yellow-swaddled baby in one arm.

“Is there something you needed?” he asks Barry, voice much softer than he usually lets it get while he's at headquarters, but it shakes Barry out of his trance anyway.

“Uh, yeah, actually. We're working on a practice case at the lab, for procedures in certain situations and things like that, and I was wondering if you'd help me go over it? I'm stuck in a few areas.”

Bruce nods his head at the table across the room. “Let's get to work, then.”

 

\--

 

He goes through the worksheets with Barry, and then they do another two practice assignments based on some of the Bat's old cases, Lily quietly murmuring at them when she's not asleep, still curled into Bruce's chest.

 

Victor comes in some time later, new vehicle blueprints in hand, and he simply raises an eyebrow at Bruce and Barry and the baby, doesn't say anything beyond the request for Bruce's overview on the specs, and they spend the next hour going over modifications and upgrades.

 

Bruce sends Barry to the kitchen after that with a promise that he'll find something to eat and Victor parts with a smile and a shake of his head, leaving Bruce and Lily with the common room to themselves. He stands carefully from his chair and rocks her gently as he walks to one of the lounges in the back. She blinks at him, eyes glued to his until they squeeze shut with a big yawn.

“You and me, both, kiddo,” Bruce murmurs, and Lily makes a quiet noise at the sound of his voice.

Bruce settles into a recliner with a soft sigh. “Time for a nap,” he tells her, and rearranges her body so she lays longways down his chest, his hands big and steadying on her back.

She wiggles around a bit, her head a warm weight on Bruce's chest, and as he runs his fingers through her hair, he thinks of his own children. He surprises himself with the sudden, overwhelming longing to have had them as infants, to have had the chance to hold them like this, comfortable and lulled by warmth and baby-soft skin. He imagines Dick with his big, blue eyes, and Jason with a head of dark curls; of Tim, who was probably so tiny, and Cassandra with her little button nose, and Damian, all baby fat and soft edges. His chest tightens, his heart squeezed tight at what he didn't get, won't ever get. He thinks about all the firsts he missed, all the things he hadn’t really realized he never got. First words, first crawl, first steps – the first time they sit up without help, the first time they hold their own head up. It makes him _ache_ , and he runs a hand down Lily's back, settling both her and himself.

“Hush,” he says, soft, and she stills. “Sleep now.”

And they both do, Lily’s gentle, deep breathing lulling Bruce into a light sleep, too.

 

\--

 

Clark is in no way prepared for the sight that greets him when he enters the Watchtower’s common room.

He expects Bruce to be at the computer like he always is, and when the door slides open and Clark finds an empty chair, he gives the room a once-over. It feels like the whole world skids to a stop when Clark finds Bruce in one of the corner recliners, with – with a _baby_ laid across his chest, nearly hidden under his hands, gently rising and falling with his breaths.

Clark maybe makes a noise, and once his body works again, he keeps his steps silent as he walks across the room.

One of Bruce's eyes open when he reaches the recliner, a sliver staring up at him.

“Hey,” Clark says, a whisper, and he sounds so ridiculously fond, even to himself.

“Hey yourself,” Bruce whispers back, voice rough with sleep and so, so addicting, a small little smile on his face that Clark could bask in for the rest of time. “When’d you get back?”

“Just now,” Clark tells him. “Who's this?”

“Lily, Barry's cousin's baby. I made him go eat.”

Clark huffs a laugh. He's itching to touch – this is such an image, one he never expected to have, to get to have, and it fills him with something that hurts as much as it comforts. He wants to lay next to Bruce, wants to hold the baby himself, wants to hold the both of them together; and it feels like a physical thing, pulling at his heart and leaving him a strange kind of breathless.

Bruce is more awake, now, and he's looking at Clark in that soft, calculating way he gets, and there's a question in that if he looks right. “What are you thinking about?”

Clark shrugs. “Nothing, I just – you and her, and _seeing_ this, I…it feels right?” He shakes his head. “That's not it. I don't know. I feel like I could sit like this forever.”

Bruce reaches for one of Clark's hands and threads their fingers together, pressing a kiss to the back of Clark's before he settles their hands on Lily's back. Clark lets the sound of their heartbeats fill his head, Bruce's strong, steady beat underneath Lily's quick and quiet one, and it's so much at the time it's so soothing.

“I keep thinking about Cass and the boys,” Bruce admits, voice so quiet, full of so much feeling that it makes Clark's heart hurt. “All the things I missed. The things I'll never get.” He pauses, takes a breath. “And I'm – I'm so happy I have them, that I got them when I did, and I don't know what I'd do without them, who I'd be.” When he looks at Clark, his face is so open, full of more emotions than Clark thinks he could name. “I can't help but _want_ that, though.”

Clark rubs his thumb along the side of Bruce's hand. “That's okay,” he says. “You're allowed to want that. You're allowed to want _this._ ”

Lily stirs, then, coming awake with a sharp breath and a sound almost like a whine, and Bruce sits up with her, adjusting his hold and dislodging Clark's hand when he stands to gently bounce her.

She settles back down quickly, Bruce's arm under her legs and her cheek against his shoulder, and Bruce presses a kiss to her head, her thin hair soft on his face. He looks at Clark over Lily's head.

“Do you want to hold her?” he asks.

“Okay,” Clark agrees, even though part of him would rather stand here and soak in Bruce and the baby for this forever and the next.

They meet in the middle, and before Bruce can hand the baby over, Clark slides an arm around Bruce's waist, palm wide and warm on his hip, his back, and he pulls them together, presses their lips together in a kiss that's got something a little sad, a little wistful. Bruce's free hand is wrapped in the front of Clark's shirt, fingers curled into the fabric, and Clark just wants to hold him, soothe this ache he can feel through the lines of Bruce's body.

“I love you,” Clark says, pressing his forehead to Bruce's, and Bruce's eyes are still closed.

“Love you, too,” he says, just as quiet, and uses his fist to tug on Clark's shirt when he makes to step back. “Your turn,” he tells him, and the trade is quick, Lily's weight warm in Clark's arms.

She blinks up at him, wide-eyed and a little unsettled at the sudden change, so Clark gives her a smile, murmurs, “Hey there,” and then she smiles. It's gummy and takes up half her face, accompanied by soft giggling, and Clark feels like his heart could burst out of his chest.

 

\--

 

Barry comes back from the kitchen, ready to take Lily back home, speeding into the room in his usual whirl of wind and lightning to end up in front of Clark and Bruce. They're standing together, making faces down at where Lily rests in Clark's arms, and Barry can now say he's seen the Batman stick his tongue out.

“Looks like everything went smoothly here,” he says, and when Clark looks up to greet Barry, his face is soft, his smile gentle.

“Guess it's time for this little one to get home, huh,” he says. “I'm sure it's been a long day for her.” But he makes no move to hand her to Barry – instead, he looks to Bruce, and Barry can't tell if they actually say words or not, but then Bruce is shaking his head, looking down at Lily as he runs a palm over her hair.

“No, go ahead,” he says, and Clark squeezes his arm with his free hand, presses a kiss to his cheek before he turns to Barry.

“She's very well behaved,” he says as Barry takes Lily from him.

“Isn't she? It makes watching her so easy.”

Barry meets her gaze and likes to think he sees recognition there. “Well, I gotta run. I mean, not _run_ run, you know, but – yeah, anyway. I'll see you guys later. Thanks for watching her for me, B!”

 

They're silent until Barry and Lily disappear behind the elevator door, and then Bruce is leaning into Clark until his head lands on his shoulder. Clark brings his arms around Bruce, one across his shoulders and one around his waist, and they stand there for a second, a minute, an hour, Clark doesn't know. He presses his nose to Bruce's hair, breathes him in as they both bring themselves back.

He doesn’t expect Bruce to say anything, and he nearly jumps when he speaks up.

“Have you ever thought about it?” he asks.

“Thought about what?” Clark asks, and though he’s fairly certain he knows what Bruce is on about, part of him wants to hear him say it out loud.

“Kids,” Bruce clarifies. “Of you own.”

Clark hums. “Not really,” he admits. “I guess – I'd be worried about genetics, I think. There's never been a case of a Kryptonian who had a child with a human.” He looks down at the top of Bruce’s head. “I'd never really been inclined that way, anyway.”

Bruce huffs a laugh at that, and Clark rubs his thumb where it rests on Bruce's arm.

“Would you…” Bruce starts, stops, and takes a breath. “Would you want to – to adopt?” he asks, and Clark – Clark has never thought about it before this moment, has never thought about the two of them adopting on purpose, about coming home to Bruce and an infant in their bed, about sitting up into the night with a baby in his arms, and it shifts something in him, something that feels so human in the way it aches and comforts.

But for all that he realizes he wants that, there's so much that stands in their way. They don't lead the kind of lives conducive to raising an infant; it's a wonder Bruce has as many kids as he does.

Clark inclines his head. “Maybe,” he says, honest, and it hurts a little. He runs his fingers through Bruce's hair, shifts so he can hold his face in his hands. “Maybe,” he repeats, thinks _in another life._ In another life, they could've had that, Clark knows, but this is _this,_ and Clark thinks Bruce knows, too.

“Maybe,” Bruce agrees, and pulls Clark into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> And they go home and see bruces kids and have a movie night and dick gets damian to cuddle w him and keeps bruce in the middle of it and they're happy for more than two whole goddamn seconds  
> And then the sequel: a month later clark finds a baby orphaned on a rescue mission and they end up getting to adopt after all. who knows.


End file.
